The Glass Hill
by Ellsbeta
Summary: In a quiet kingdom a hill turns to glass and the princess sits atop it. It is said that the one who can climb it will win her hand. But who could manage such a feat?
1. Chapter 1

_For Captain Fantastic, who requested "A grassy hilltop, crowned with wildflowers. Someone has left behind a brown leather journal, bound with string, with rumpled pages that smell like vanilla and spice…"_

_Based on _The Princess on the Glass Hill _(which is, according to Wikipedia, a Norwegian fairy tale collected by Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe in Norske Folkeeventyr, though I first heard it in the Fractured Fairy Tales section of Rocky and Bullwinkle...)_

_I hope you enjoy it._

* * *

In the mornings, the hill shone like a giant diamond, glinting off the sun so brightly one could hardly bear to look at it. The steep slopes were covered in long, clear grass blades laid down like a sheet of ice to create a surface so smooth that if you tried to climb it you would simply slip back down again. Far up on the top of the hill the land flattened out in a crown of wildflowers like crystal ornaments catching the colors of the rainbow in each shining petal. In the middle of the field of crystal flowers stood a giant glass tree whose leaves some claimed they could hear softly tinkling in a breeze. And somewhere upon the hilltop was Princess Ingrid, a crystalline figure of beauty whose only sign of life was the new position she was found in each morning.

The mysterious hill stood just outside the royal palace and those who came in and out would look for Princess Ingrid as they passed. Most days she was sitting under the tree, leaning her head against it as though just resting for a moment. Some days she was barely visible, a mere bump lying in the crystal flowers. Sometimes, on particularly exciting days for the onlookers, she stood at the edge of the field, gazing towards the castle, skirt caught up in an evening wind and frozen there, long after the wind had gone.

The curious thing was that no one seemed to know what happened at night. The glass was so pure it seemed to vanish in the dark. Those who felt it said the hill was as slippery and unclimbable as ever – worse with nothing to see by – but every morning when the sun rose, Princess Ingrid had moved.

Aldhred had seen Princess Ingrid a few times, before. Once a year, he rode in with his father to deliver their field's crop of hay for the royal horses. When he was seven, and she six, they had brought in some goats to sell as well as the hay. He was herding them in after his father's wagon when she ran over, a flounce of purple silk and brown curls. She tried to pet one and laughed when it tried to eat her hair. One of her maids came then, huffing about how she shouldn't run off like that and drug her away. Princess Ingrid let herself be led away but when she was halfway across the courtyard she looked back with a smile, one curl stuck across her face, and waved.

When he was twelve and she eleven he'd looked up while unloading hay to see her walking along the castle parapet, balancing a book on her head. He'd snorted at the ridiculous sight, which turned out to be a bad thing to do as she startled and the book fell, nearly hitting him on the head. When he looked up, after dodging for his life, she was stifling a laugh and a smile as though it served him right for mocking her. She came down a few moments later and grabbed the book where it lay beside him with a timid but still amused smile. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice soft and light. Belatedly he remembered she was the princess and bowed.

"I apologize for laughing, Princess," he mumbled.

"Princess Ingrid!" Someone called her, "Time for your lessons!" She smiled once more, sweetly this time, and then skipped back to the stairs.

When he was seventeen and she sixteen, he saw her tearing through the fields on her horse, Ebony, as he and his father drove their wagon to the castle. She was a sight to see, astride her black horse with her skirts and hair flowing out behind her and a wide grin across her face. Aldhred thought she nodded towards them, she was going to fast to let go for a wave.

She came in later while he and his father were pitching hay into the royal stalls. She led Ebony to her stall and began to unsaddle her. Aldhred put down his pitchfork and stepped up to her horse's stall. "Would you like help, princess?" he asked, bowing slightly.

"No, thank you. I rather enjoy it," she answered, patting Ebony fondly.

Aldhred lingered, looking back briefly at his father who continued pitching hay without a word or even a glance in their direction. "You're a good rider," he said. It came out as barely a whisper. He flushed for sounding so timid and hoped she did not see.

"Ebony loves the exercise. As do I. I feel so free riding through the countryside. You must love living out there." Princess Ingrid looked square in his face then. Her hair was curly and windblown and her cheeks were flushed from the exercise. Her smile reached her eyes and she looked brightly at him, expectantly waiting for him to say something.

Aldhred swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry and his hands clammy. "Yes, uh, it's nice," he sputtered, backing away. "I should get back to working." It came out as a mere mumble.

"Wait," she called. "I've seen you deliver hay for our horses many times, but I still don't know your name."

"Aldhred," he answered, turning and grabbing his pitchfork again.

She finished tending Ebony in silence and left him to his work. But when she left the stables she paused in the door. "Goodbye, Aldhred," she called before turning to go. He blushed and looked at his father who simply smiled.

Then it happened when Aldhred was eighteen. His father was ill and had sent him with the hay alone. He arrived with the sun and was nearly to the castle gates when a crystal hill caught the light and burst into brilliance beside him. He pulled the wagon to a stop and stared. She sat near the edge of the glass meadow that day, a crystal curl straying across her face, her hand up, perhaps about to brush the curl away, perhaps about to wave.

When Aldhred finally went inside the castle grounds, rumors seemed to leak from the very walls.

"It started just after her seventeenth birthday," the guard informed him.

"If you can climb the hill you will win her hand," the pageboy announced.

"It was the king who cursed her," one maid whispered to another.

"The king meant to protect her," the other maid countered, "only the noble and brave can scale such a hill."

"If you ask me it's an enchantment gone wrong," the head housekeeper gave her opinion rather loudly. "The king's not been out for weeks. His window has a view of her and he just sits there, watching, all day. It's a sorry sight to see."

Amazingly, with all the talk, the work went even faster. Everyone was eager to help if it meant someone new they could foist their theories on. Aldhred just listened to them all. He asked only one question.

"Has anyone tried to climb it?" he queried Damian, the stablemaster, who hadn't said a word about it.

"No," he answered. "But the neighboring princes are already on their way."

"Of course," Aldhred continued unloading the hay.

"Aldhred," Damian said when they were finished. "Come by when you can. Someone will need to exercise her horse, and I'm afraid we'll have no one to spare with royal company coming. I'll make sure you're paid for your trouble."

"Yes, sir," Aldhred answered. "No trouble at all, sir."

When he left the castle late that afternoon he stopped to look at her again, curl and hand still frozen in place. She looked purple, the way she caught the afternoon sun, and he remembered the first time he ever saw her, dressed in frilly purple silk, and the way she'd waved then, too. He wondered if she could see through clear crystal eyes, and what she was thinking, if she could think at all. He waved before he left, just in case.

That night when he arrived at home he told his father the news. His father frowned when he heard of the state of the princess but said nothing. When Aldhred told of the stablemaster's request he sighed and nodded. "You'll have to work extra hard, my boy, to keep the farm running and take so many trips to the castle. I wish I could help you more."

"I will, father," he answered confidently. "You just rest, recover your strength."

"My dear, sweet boy," he patted Aldhred on the arm. "You make me proud." With a pleasant smile his father drifted back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2! I was going to update in a weekly fashion but I finished the chapter early and was so excited I decided to publish it right away. Just so you know, I am expecting this to be four chapters in all._

_Also a note to Captain: I didn't think Aldhred would know what vanilla is, so I only called it something sweet, but imagine it as vanilla when you read it. :D_

* * *

It took three weeks for the first prince to arrive. Aldhred made sure to schedule a trip to exercise Princess Ingrid's horse for when Damian was expecting the royal party. Once again, the castle was buzzing with news and excitement. "He came yesterday morning wearing robes golden as the sun," he heard a kitchen maid say. "If anyone can rescue the princess, it's sure to be him."

Aldhred got to see Prince Elbert for himself a few hours later when he ran, quite literally, into him. Rounding a corner too quickly, he smacked into something solid and yellow, then landed hard on his seat. Looking up, he saw the prince, eyebrows high and nose tilted up, calmly waiting while several servants brushed him off. Aldhred quickly stood up and bowed low. "I'm so sorry, your highness," he sputtered.

Prince Elbert glanced briefly down at him, then continued walking as though Aldhred wasn't even there. Aldhred stood and rubbed his sore bottom. Exercising Ebony was going to be less fun than usual today. But he had the rescue attempt to watch and that was sure to distract him. He twinged, though, with a strange feeling that it wouldn't be a pleasant distraction.

In the past weeks Aldhred had taken Ebony over most of the royal grounds outside the palace and discovered which neighboring hill had the best view of the hill of glass. He took Ebony there today, to watch while he rode. Others lined up along the bottom of the crystal hill, crowding each other for a good view. Aldhred preferred to watch from above. _To see as Princess Ingrid sees_, he thought. He looked over to where she stood today. She was at the edge of the field of wildflowers, crystal hands clasped to her chest as though in nervousness or anticipation. He wasn't sure if she could see, but somehow he was certain she knew what was about to happen.

Trumpets began to blare from the castle gates. Prince Elbert rode out, atop a large horse whose coat was such a light tan that it seemed to blend in with the Prince's yellow robes. The maid was right, he did seem to shine like the sun. He held his head high and seemed entirely confident. Behind the prince was the King, in royal blue garments sitting astride his horse, Dieter, the whitest horse Aldhred had ever seen. The King's face, Aldhred noted, was not so confident. Though he smiled at the people, it did not reach his eyes and tight worry lines creased his forehead.

Prince Elbert parted the crowd as he rode through it, nearly trampling a few who did not move quickly enough. His eyes never looked down to see them. He rode directly to the glass hill and stopped. Aldhred pulled Ebony to a halt and waited. The crowd's distant chattering faded to silence. Even the light breeze seemed to still, as though it, too, had frozen in anticipation. Prince Elbert sat on his horse, looking up the steep glass slope, eyebrows still high as though even this hill was beneath him. The king's horse neighed, breaking the silence. Prince Elbert nudged his horse onward. Slowly, the horse took a step forward onto the glassy surface.

And slipped. The crowd began to murmur. Aldhred released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Prince Elbert nudged the horse again. This time the horse got two feet onto the hill before slipping down. The prince backed his horse up and came to the hill at a trot. The horse got all four feet on the hill this time, but slipped down once again. By this time the crowd was getting quite loud. Prince Elbert's eyebrows were furrowed and he looked frustrated. He took his horse in a wide circle and came back around, charging toward the hill at a full gallop. But he only slipped down the hill faster. His horse stumbled and fell and Prince Elbert barely managed to roll off in time not to have his leg crushed beneath the weight. He stood up and waited as his servants quickly ran over and brushed him off. They brought his horse back to him and prepared to help him mount again. The crowd went silent once more as Prince Elbert climbed back into the saddle.

Head held high and eyebrows up, the prince rode over to the king. Even from atop the neighboring hill, Aldhred could hear his loud words. "I'm sorry, King Alaric, but it cannot be done. I'll be leaving in the morning." With that he rode back inside the castle gates. His servants, with bowed heads, rushed after him.

The King sat stoically upon his horse, making no sound or movement. After a few awkward moments, the crowd began to disperse as well. They headed back toward the castle gates, bowing and curtsying to their King as they passed. Some seemed to say something. Aldhred couldn't hear their words, but he guessed from their faces that it was words of comfort and encouragement. Aldhred's chest tightened. He remembered his father telling him how proud he was of Aldhred as he shouldered the burden of the farm in the wake of his father's illness. Somehow, seeing his fellow countrymen attempting to comfort their king made him feel the same way his father had.

When the last of the crowd had gone, the King still remained. Aldhred watched him for a few moments longer as he stared up at his daughter. Then Aldhred turned away to finish exercising Ebony and give the King his privacy.

When Aldhred finished the sun was sinking low in the sky. He rode Ebony down the hill, passing through where the crowd had stood. The King still sat upon Dieter, who munched on the grass near his feet. The crown was visible but the King's face was downturned, until he looked up at the sound of a hooves. He seemed to startle at the sight of his daughter's horse. Aldhred slipped off Ebony and bowed.

"Your highness," Aldhred spoke softly. "I have just finished exercising Ebony and am about to groom her. I can care for Dieter, as well, if you wish."

The words broke the King from his thoughts. He shifted slightly in posture and suddenly he looked regal once again, with only traces of sadness left on his face. He nodded toward Aldhred. "Thank you, son," his voice was deep and kind. "I will deliver him to the stables in a moment."

Aldhred bowed again and remounted Ebony, riding her inside.

The King arrived with Dieter when Aldhred was halfway through grooming Princess Ingrid's horse. Dieter went straight to his stall and the King insisted on unsaddling his horse himself, but he left the rest for Aldhred to take care of. As he left, he paused in the doorway. "Thank you, Aldhred." Aldhred's breath hitched, surprised the King knew his name. He bowed hastily in acknowledgement. He might have gotten his name from the stablemaster, Aldhred surmised. Or perhaps he always knew who brought his horse's hay. Or maybe Princess Ingrid had once mentioned the boy who offered to help her groom her horse, complimented her riding, and then hid at the other end of the stables like a stammering idiot. Aldhred cringed and blushed at that thought, but he knew it wasn't likely. Most likely the King had simply stopped Damian outside the stables to ask who was caring for his daughter's horse. In the King's parting smile Aldhred could see Princess Ingrid's resemblance to him.

It was dark when Aldhred finally headed home. He stopped near the glass hill on his way. He strained his eyes but he could see nothing but the black of night. There wasn't even a reflection of the stars overhead. Slowly, Aldhred reached his hand out. He moved it forward, inch by inch. As he moved forward further and further he began to think he might be in the wrong spot after all and his hand would simply sink through air until it reached the ground. Then, suddenly he felt something cool and solid and smooth. For a moment, he just held his hand in place, palm against the glassy surface, fingers splayed.

Then he tried to climb. He hadn't stopped here with the intention of climbing. Even when he reached to touch it, it wasn't with the purpose of climbing. The thought of climbing hadn't seemed to truly form in his head until he was already doing. To his surprise, it was working. Maybe it was the dried sweat on his hands sticking to the glassy surface. Maybe it was the grip of his tough leather boots. Maybe it was the low, limbs spread, crawling position he was using. He climbed higher inch by inch, never sure if he was making great progress or only many tiny movements that barely moved him up the hill at all. He refused to look down to see.

The contour of the hill began to change. The slope began to lessen and Aldhred climbed faster. As the hill flattened even more Aldhred ran right into what felt like a wall. He slid back down several feet before regaining his grip. He climbed back up more slowly, reaching his hand out in front of him, testing before he moved forward. It was air, he realized, when he reached it again. A wind current so strong it felt solid, extending in either direction as far as his arm could reach. With great force, he pushed his arm out straight into it. The wind pulled impossibly hard at him, but he reached in to his elbow. It was penetrable, then. Staying low to the glassy ground to avoid as much of the force as he could, he pushed himself through.

Across the wall of wind the air was still, the ground was flat, and there were wildflowers beneath him. Real wildflowers with soft, fleshy petals that tickled his cheeks. Surprised, Aldhred stood up. The moon had risen, unnoticed, while he was climbing. By it's light he could see that he stood in a wildflower field. In the middle stood a tree. He recognized it. Aldhred gulped. He'd made it. He remembered the whispers and rumors.

"Only the noble and brave can scale such a hill."

"If you can climb the hill you will win her hand."

Aldhred suddenly felt embarrassed. What would Princess Ingrid think of him climbing the hill? But thinking of her reminded him that she was up here somewhere, in need of saving. "Princess Ingrid?" he called, walking forward. "Where are you?"

The meadow wasn't very large and he searched it quickly. Occasionally a breeze seemed to stir near him, bending the wildflowers, but Princess Ingrid was nowhere to be found. The only sign of her was a brown leather journal, bound with string, lying beneath the tree. He picked it up and opened the leather binding. The pages were rumpled and smelled of something sweet with a hint of spice. The smell took him back to when she'd nearly dropped a book on him. He thought it smelled the same. Maybe it was how all royal books smelled. Or maybe it was just the smell of her, lingering on her possessions. His father had taught him to read a little and when he glanced at the page he could tell it was her diary. Not wanting to be intrusive, he closed it and retied the string.

The tree beside him rustled in a breeze. He felt, more than heard the voice. "_Read it_," it seemed to say. "_You deserve it. You climbed the hill. She's yours now. See if she writes of you. You deserve her praise. Read it._" He could feel the temptation. What _did_ she think of him? He _had_ climbed the hill. That meant he had won her hand, didn't it? Reading her journal could help him get to know her better, maybe even know what she thought of him. "_You deserve it_," he felt again.

But then Aldhred remembered Prince Elbert. The way he hadn't even acknowledged him when they ran into each other. The way he nearly trampled people on his way to the glass hill. As though it was his right to pursue his own interests without regard for those he encountered along the way. And he remembered the King. The way he'd stopped to notice and even thank him by name, an honor a King didn't need to bestow.

"No," he said aloud, putting the book down. "I can't deserve to read her private thoughts. Those are hers to give at her will." _Besides_, Aldhred thought but didn't say, _she is a princess and I am merely a farmer's boy._

The feeling of temptation, the strange voice he seemed to feel instead of hear, left as quickly as it had come. The flowers rustled beside him. A branch moved on the tree and revealed a golden apple, looking ripe and delicious. It seemed to pick itself and drop into his hands. "A gift," he thought he heard in the softest, airy whisper. "Go, before the sun rises."

"Princess Ingrid?" he asked, but no other sound or movement was made. Not knowing where she was or what else to do, he climbed back down the hill and returned home.

His father was waiting for him by the fire. "You were out late tonight, my boy. How was your trip to the castle?" he asked, dishing him a bowl of stew from the kettle.

"The King knows my name," Aldhred beamed, relishing again the feeling of awestruck humility. That the king should know his name! "And something else you'll find hard to believe." From his pack Aldhred pulled an apple. To the surprise of both father and son, it was clear crystal, glittering like gold in the firelight.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you to all who have reviewed! I meant to have this chapter up yesterday but was having trouble being motivated about finishing it. When I read all the recent reviews that I hadn't realized I'd been getting (apparently they started going to my spam folder) I was reinspired and made sure not to keep you waiting long! So here is chapter 3, I hope you enjoy!_

_Also just some info: Chapter 4 should be up by next Thursday. It was originally slated to be the final chapter but it may stretch into a five chapter story. I'll let you know for sure when chapter 4 goes up. If it does stretch to 5 chapters I can promise that it won't be any longer than that and I will have the fifth chapter up very quickly after chapter 4._

* * *

It was several weeks before Aldhred could return to the castle. More fields were bringing in harvest and arrangements had to be made for trade. Aldhred's father had recovered from his illness, but some of his former strength seemed lost, perhaps forever. It worried Aldhred a bit, but he also suspected his father was taking advantage of the opportunity, letting Aldhred do more on his own than was necessary while he still had strength to teach him, in preparation for the day Aldhred would not have his father around to fall back on. He hoped that day was still a long ways off.

When Aldhred was finally able to take a day and head to the castle, he wasn't sure if he should expect a visiting royal party or not. The glass hill was still there, which didn't surprise him. He had wondered, after he came home, if something would change the next day. But he had heard no news, and he was certain he would have heard news if it had changed. When he reached the castle gates he stood a while and watched Princess Ingrid, she was sitting under the tree today, before coming inside. _I climbed it_, he wanted to say to her, _why couldn't I save you?_

Damian was brushing a horse he didn't recognize when he arrived at the stables. "Aldhred," he smiled. "Ebony's missed you."

"I'm sorry," Aldhred responded sincerely. He'd missed Ebony, too. "This was the soonest I could get away from the farm."

"A good harvest, then?"

A good harvest was good news and Aldhred suspected those at the castle could use good news. He was glad he could deliver it. "Yes, very good." He began to saddle Ebony. "Has another Prince come?" he asked, trying not to sound too interested.

Damian snorted. "Yes," he answered. Damian wasn't one for gossip and Aldhred knew that snort was as much opinion as he would get from him. He decided not to ask further and finished getting Ebony ready in silence.

When Aldhred began to lead Ebony out of the stables, Damian called to him again. "You can leave your pack in the loft if you want. Won't be in your way then."

"That's all right," Aldhred replied lightly, suddenly feeling the weight of a certain object inside it, bumping against his back. "I've got my lunch inside. Thought I'd have a picnic on a hill."

It was true but it wasn't the only reason Aldhred wanted his pack near him. Aldhred and his father guessed the crystal apple was probably worth half of their farm, or more if people knew where it came from. Both agreed he shouldn't sell it, but they didn't know what to do with it either. Aldhred had taken to keeping it with him in his pack.

Damian just nodded and continued working. Aldhred nearly sighed with relief that he didn't suspect anything. "The attempt will be midafternoon," Damian offered.

Aldhred acknowledged with a nod. It was good timing then. He could watch from the hilltop as before.

Aldhred watched the crowds gather while he rode. Mostly it was castle folk, but some of the nearby farmers had come to watch as well. The crowd was even bigger than last time. Aldhred was just dismounting for lunch when the king rode out. Following him was a regal looking man who looked nearly the king's age. Behind him was a finely dressed boy. Aldhred finally understood Damian's snort. The Prince couldn't have been more than twelve years old. The older man, who must be the neighboring King, began to speak. As everyone else quieted Aldhred could hear his final words.

"I present my son, Prince Diederick, for this task."

Diederick rode forward with his eyes down. The King whispered something to him and Diederick looked up towards the glass hill. Though Diederick was frowning towards the hill in what could have been a look of determination, Aldhred thought he saw the Prince trembling. Diederick rode his horse slowly forward until the next step would be on the glass.

He waited several moments. Aldhred took a bite of his bread. The Prince backed up a few steps and paused again. Aldhred took another bite. The Prince went forward to the same spot he'd been before and paused again. He dismounted. Aldhred sat up straighter. It was without a horse that he had made it up the hill, would this prince make it, too? A knot grew in his stomach. The Prince reached out gingerly, much as Aldhred had done in the dark, stretching his hands toward the glass while tilting his head up and up to look at the top of the hill. His fingers just brushed the surface and he was looking nearly straight up when to everyone's surprise, the Prince turned around and ran back to the castle.

After a few moments of stunned silence, everyone began to chatter. The visiting King, face red and frowning, rode after his son, shouting as he went. King Alaric rode after him. Aldhred remounted, the knot in his stomach easing, and rode down to see to the Prince's horse, which had been left by the hillside.

Aldhred led both Ebony and the Prince's horse back to their stalls. As he was removing their saddles, he thought he heard sniffling from above him. Suspicious, he gave each horse a treat and climbed the ladder to the loft. Far in the corner, almost hidden in the darkness, the Prince sat wiping his dirty, tear stained cheeks. Aldhred hopped into the loft. The Prince looked around and realizing the ladder behind Aldhred was the only exit, he slunk back further into the corner.

Aldhred walked slowly to the Prince's side and then sat down beside him. His knees and shoulders gently brushed against the Prince, but he didn't say anything or even look at him. He just waited. After a long moment, the Prince let a small cry escape his lips.

"I know what they say about me," he sniffled. "That I'm a coward." Tears kept escaping and the Prince kept furiously wiping them away. "The hill," he tried to protest but his words were halting. "The hill," he tried again but then another cry came and he couldn't get out the words.

Aldhred gave him the dignity of not watching him cry, instead looking forward while he sat beside him until the Prince's breaths began to even out again. "When I was thirteen my father started having me check on our cow on my own," Aldhred spoke softly. "My father was at the neighbors when I found her in labor. She was struggling and I was terrified. I'd seen my father help with the calf delivery many times. He was always calm and knew what to do. I didn't even know where to begin."

"What did you do?" the Prince asked.

"I ran," Aldhred said with a smile. "Eight miles down the road to get my father. When we returned my father helped with what turned out to be an easy labor. I'd just been so frightened I'd thought the situation was worse than it was." Aldhred waited a moment, cleared his throat. "This year my father was ill for a long time. When Daisy went into labor this year something was wrong. The calf was breech. But my father could barely sit up in bed. I couldn't run to him for help. It was just like I was thirteen again; I was terrified."

The Prince waited. "What did you do this time?" he asked finally.

Aldhred smiled. "I remembered everything my father taught me, and delivered a breech calf." He took a breath then went on. "When I was thirteen I wasn't ready to deliver a calf on my own. And there was nothing wrong with admitting that. This year I was ready, but I still didn't feel ready. But in facing my fear I learned something. When it really matters to you, you already have the courage you need."

The Prince looked up at him and wiped his tears. "Thanks." He smiled but still looked contemplative. Aldhred wondered if a Prince would know what a breech calf was. He hoped the encouragement came through anyway.

"Come on," Aldhred stood and held out his hand. "Your father will be looking for you."

When they climbed down the ladder, the Prince ran to find his father and Aldhred turned to finish with the horses. Damian was there, finishing with the Prince's horse. Stepping out of the stall, he put his hand on Aldhred's shoulder. In Damian's usual way he said nothing but gave Aldhred a look that said everything. Aldhred blushed as though he'd been deeply praised and looked down. "Ebony still needs a good scrub," Damian said and walked away.

It was dark again when Aldhred left the castle. He'd given Ebony extra care, even braiding her tail, waiting for darkness. Making sure no one was around to see, he returned to the glass hill. It was still a slow climb, but it went faster now that he knew what to expect. When he reached the tree, the journal lay open beneath it.

"Princess Ingrid? Are you here?" He called into the darkness.

"Aldhred?" He whirled. She was a voice on the air, a body of wind he could barely make out in the moonlight.

"Princess Ingrid? Is that you?" He bowed briefly.

"You can see me this time? And hear me?" Her voice was breathy and he didn't know if it was excitement or the fact that she seemed to be made of wind.

"You're…" He didn't know how to describe it. He could see her, but he could see through her too.

"Not quite solid?" she finished.

He nodded. "Is this…how you are at night?" It felt odd, talking about an enchantment he didn't understand.

She shrugged. "I feel the same. You don't think much about being invisible when you turn to glass each day. Last time you couldn't see or hear me at all. I seem to have solidified a bit since then, so it's an improvement, I think."

"You were there, last time?" He blushed thinking of her watching while he held her journal, fighting temptation to read it.

"Yes," she said simply, smiling. Her smile was so full of admiration that the embarrassment quickly slipped away.

"Are you alright?" he asked, wishing he'd thought to ask sooner. "It doesn't hurt or anything does it?"

"No, it doesn't hurt," she answered and he breathed a sigh of relief. "I never seem to get hungry," she laughed. "What would wind eat anyway?"

"What does it feel like when, when the sun comes up?" He couldn't bring himself to say 'when you turn into crystal.'

She ran a hand through her wispy curls. "Like falling asleep," she answered. Suddenly it made sense why she was usually seen resting her head against the tree.

"What do you do at night?" He wondered if she got lonely, by herself every night on this hill.

"On moonlit nights like this I look at the view. Come on, I'll show you." She began to climb the tree, motioning for him to follow. She climbed lightly, like a breeze, stirring the branches as she went. He followed her, sometimes pushing straight up like he was climbing a ladder, sometimes swinging his legs sideways for a limb almost out of reach. They were nearly to the top when she stopped and he climbed onto the branch beside her, taking up a spot near the trunk of the tree.

The view was breathtaking. In one direction he could see the entire castle grounds. Little lights glinted where servants were working by candlelight. In another direction he could see the surrounding farmland. He thought he could even see his own farm from here, a small fire gleaming through the window where his father waited for him. In still another direction he saw a vast forest. No lights came from that direction, but the stars seemed to shine brighter over the darkness.

Suddenly, he heard a snapping sound. He looked down. The branch beneath them was breaking between where they sat. "Princess Ingrid!" He reached out reflexively and grabbed her as she fell, reaching with his other arm for what was left of the attached branch at the same time. It was strange, grasping her arm, like trying to hold the wind. But though she felt like nothing, she still pulled him down. The jolt of their momentum pulled through his shoulder as his grip stopped their fall.

"Aldhred!" Her voice sounded frightened and her barely there fingers clung to the arm she dangled from. She moved somehow, kicked maybe. The motion caused him to swing slightly and his shoulder twisted. He grimaced in pain.

"Drop her." The voice that made no sound was back. He could almost feel it leech out of his pain and grow in his trembling limbs. "She's practically made of air, it's not likely to hurt her. Once you let her go your other arm is free to take the load. You don't have to feel this pain." His shoulder twisted again and shot a fresh wave of agony through his arm. He gritted his teeth and looked down. Princess Ingrid's eyes were wide with fear. He wondered if she could feel the voice or if it was only for him. She said nothing, just watched and waited for him to do something, to get them back to a position of safety.

"What if you can't do it?" The voice continued. "Your arm is in pain now, what if moving her to safety wrecks it completely? What if it leaves you unable to work the farm? Who will look after it with both your father and you unable to work?" It was as though the voice came from his own thoughts, pulling out all his deepest fears. The farm was all he and his father had, and his father couldn't work it on his own anymore. If he could no longer work it either, he didn't know what they would do. "You don't have to risk it." The voice said. "Let her go."

Aldhred looked down at Princess Ingrid. In her half wind state, he wasn't sure what dropping her would do. He couldn't risk it. He looked for a branch he could swing her towards. It was quite a ways and he was going to have to swing hard. His shoulder ached and for a moment he didn't know if he could do it. The pain in his shoulder had him genuinely frightened. Closing his eyes, he remembered his earlier words to the prince. He whispered them aloud to himself. "When it really matters to you, you already have the courage you need."

"Aldhred?" Princess Ingrid asked breathily. Her voice trembled.

"Princess Ingrid. Do you see that branch?" He began swinging her lightly toward it. She nodded. He forced every ounce of determination he could muster into his words. "I am going to get you on that branch." He swung harder, getting her closer, until with a final painful cry he positioned her just above it. She let go of his arm and landed on the branch, leaning immediately into the tree trunk. She stayed there, just breathing.

Aldhred reached his other arm up to take his weight. Slowly and carefully, he climbed down to where Princess Ingrid was and they helped each other climb the rest of the way to the ground. When they were out of the tree they both sat breathlessly against the tree trunk. Aldhred rubbed his shoulder.

"Are you all right?" Princess Ingrid asked, worry in her eyes.

Aldhred massaged the joint and moved his shoulder around. It was a little sore, but he could move it without causing any additional pain. "Yes," he breathed, closing his eyes in relief. "I'm all right."

She leaned in and kissed his cheek. It felt like the lightest breeze landing softly against his skin. When he opened his eyes she held a golden apple. "Thank you."

He took it grinning. "Go, before the sun rises?" he asked.

She laughed lightly. "We don't want to both be crystal."

They both stood. "Princess Ingrid-" he began, but she interrupted.

"Aldhred." One of her brown curls blew into her face and she brushed it back. "Just call me Ingrid."

"Ingrid," he began again. The familiarity didn't feel as odd as he'd expected it to. "I'll be back," he promised.

"I know you will." She waved as he left.

Those that watched her daily were surprised to find her the next morning facing the farmland, face frozen in a crystal smile.


	4. Chapter 4

The first cold and wet days of late autumn came and Aldhred's father grew ill again. Aldhred found him in the barn one morning, bent over by a pail of milk, rasping for breath. "Father!" he called anxiously, rushing over to support him.

"Finished…the morning…chores," he said between breaths.

"You should have let me," Aldhred protested, slowly walking his father back to the house.

"Wanted to give you a break," his father weakly answered. Aldhred put him to bed and went for the neighbor. After a thorough looking over she gave Aldhred herbs for his tea and instructed he get plenty of rest.

"Better keep a close eye on him, Aldhred," she said quietly, away from where his father would hear. "Old farmers don't know when rest is good for them."

Aldhred stayed close by his side for weeks. It was nearly a month later when his father woke to find Aldhred holding the crystal apples, just looking at them by the firelight.

"Go back to her." His voice came out a bit raspy.

"Father?" Aldhred stirred and came close, bringing a cup of water. He took a drink and spoke again.

"Go back to her." Aldhred began to protest but his father continued on. "Leave stew in the kettle and a bucket of water from the well. I promise not to exert myself." His father's eyes twinkled and Aldhred couldn't help but smile.

"I'll make preparations and leave in the morning," Aldhred relented. "Be careful when I'm gone." Aldhred's face was serious and he waited until his father assured him he would do nothing but lounge in bed, eat stew, and drink water all day.

The next morning brought with it cloudless skies and warm sunshine. Aldhred recognized it as one of the final spells of warm weather before the winter cold would set in.

When Aldhred arrived at the castle he was surprised to notice how many more people were milling about, and more finely dressed people than he'd ever seen. One Prince bowed with a flourish to a well-dressed lady as he passed. "Here to watch the show?" he heard him say. "Rescuing beautiful women is only one of my many talents." Aldhred looked away to hide the disgust in his face. He overheard two more Princes discussing the wealth of the kingdom, boasting to each other how much richer they would be than the other when they won the Princess's hand.

Aldhred was glad when he reached the stables and didn't have to see any more men intent on saving Ingrid for their own glory. "When did so many arrive?" he asked Damian when the stablemaster came in, looking overworked and tired.

Damian looked surprised and relieved to see Aldhred. "Word is spreading and more come every day. They stay and try again and again."

"Has anyone…?" Aldhred breathed his half question so quietly he didn't think Damian heard. But he knew no one had made it, the glass hill was still there, after all.

"Princess Ingrid stood at the edge of the hillside many days after you last came," Damian continued on. "But as the crowds grew she's retreated, hiding near the tree it seems."

Aldhred had time only for a brief ride, bristling as he watched the crowds make a parade of trying to climb the hill. The Princes took turns, laughing at one another, and flirted with rich looking ladies who stood by watching. The King and most of the subjects weren't even in sight. Aldhred was glad to go back to the stables and help Damian with the visiting horses. It kept him busy so he could barely think of, and certainly not watch, while Princes sought to reach Ingrid as though she was nothing more than a tournament trophy.

When night finally fell and Damian sent him home, the crowds were still milling about by firelight in the castle grounds. He slipped by them quickly and ran to the glass hill. Thankfully the crowds were all gathered inside the castle gates and he could make the climb without anyone seeing him.

He smiled when he saw her, sitting beside the tree, head bent over her journal. She was more solid than ever, only blurred edges showed she still had a bit of wind about her. "Ingrid!" he called happily.

Her head snapped up and she stood, the journal dropping from her lap unheeded. "Aldhred?" He thought he saw a moment of relief on her face but it turned quickly to anger. His smile fell. "Where have you been?" she demanded.

"I was…" he started, but she went on before he could finish.

"What have you been doing? Have you seen how many people have come to save me? There are _crowds_ in the castle grounds. What were you doing? Waiting for their audience?"

"What?" He was completely shocked by her outburst.

"How do I know you didn't just come for wealth and fame like everyone else?" she challenged. "Biding your time until saving me was most advantageous to you?"

That angered him. How could she possibly think of him like that? "What about you?" he spit back. "How do I know you and your father didn't just cook up this scheme to, to…" he didn't even know what he was trying to accuse her of, "make yourself famous?"

She opened her mouth then snapped it shut again. She turned on her heel and walked quickly as far away from him as she could. He ran both his hands through his hair in frustration. This was not how he had wanted this night to go.

"Leave her," the familiar voice was back once more. "Your intent was pure. You don't have to deal with accusations. She should be thankful. You came to save her and look how she's treated you for it. Just go home where you're appreciated."

He took a few deep breaths. But the voice came again. "She's not worth arguing with." He pushed the voice and the anger away. He remembered her smile, her look of trust, her concern, her laughter. _She is worth arguing with, because she is worth holding onto_. He took a deep breath, calming his own hurt pride and determining how to approach her.

_Try to see it from her perspective_, he told himself. _She's stuck on a glass hill, turning into crystal every day, with no idea why. Her hand in marriage is promised to anyone who can climb the hill. Then a poor farmer's boy climbs it twice and has yet to save her. Of course she's upset._

Aldhred walked to Ingrid and stood beside her, facing her shoulder. "Ingrid, we need to talk." He took a breath. "Calmly," he added. She didn't turn to face him, but she didn't leave either. He chose to see it as a good sign. "I'm sorry. I know you don't want to be stuck on this hill and I've seen how sad it makes your father, how much he misses you. I know neither of you did this for fame." He paused and when she said nothing he went on. "Those Princes," all Aldhred's disgust poured into his voice as he mentioned them. "They weren't here for you. They were here for themselves. It hurt when you suggested the same of me. Truthfully, Ingrid, I don't even know why I climbed the hill. I'm not a prince. I haven't been able to save you. I just thought of you up here, trapped and alone, and I came. I still come, with no idea what to do but to offer you my company. You…matter to me. Those Princes…you don't matter to them. I couldn't have you think of me like that. So I lashed back at you. But it was wrong of me. I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?"

He waited for several long moments before Ingrid turned to him. "Yes," she said. "I'm sorry, too. I know you're not here for the wealth or the fame. You conquered the hill and received nothing but you still came back. But you were gone for a month, Aldhred. More and more princes were coming and trying and they're not even leaving when they don't succeed anymore. I kept waiting and when you still didn't come back, I worried. I was worried someone else would make the climb before you returned." She twisted her hands together and quickly went on. "I let that worry turn into anger and accused you of things I shouldn't have. Will you forgive me?"

"Yes," he said, smiling at her. She smiled back.

From a pocket in her skirt he hadn't even known was there she pulled a golden apple, looking exactly like the first two. "Thank you," she said, holding it out to him.

"For what?" he asked, incredulous.

"Not leaving after I insulted you."

"We both said things we didn't mean."

"But you stayed to work it out. I needed to know you would." She quickly backtracked, "I mean, I didn't start the argument with that intention, but when you did…I realized I needed that."

He took the apple as she trailed off. "I understand." He put the apple into his pack, and glanced towards home.

"Aldhred?" she asked tentatively. He looked back up at her. "Don't go yet."

They sat together in the wildflowers. He listened while she pointed out constellations. She laughed when he tried to count the stars. She hugged him when he told her of his father falling ill again. He described riding Ebony in all the detail he could remember when she told him she missed being free. After many hours he finally stood again.

"The sun will be up if I stay much longer," he said, turning to go. To his surprise, instead of letting him go, she grabbed his arm, turning him back towards her again.

"Go to my father, Aldhred," she whispered. "Ask to climb the hill."

The reality of what she was saying hit him hard in the chest. What _had_ he intended to accomplish in coming up here? Saving her? He truly hadn't thought through what that would mean. He hadn't come for the wealth or the position, but if he climbed the hill in broad daylight, with the King watching, if he truly rescued her, all of that would come with it. "Aldhred?" she asked, nervously watching the way he kicked his toes into the ground. "What's wrong?"

He knelt, dropping all the familiarity he'd so comfortably slipped into earlier. "Princess Ingrid," he said. "I don't deserve your hand. You're a princess. I'm a farmer's boy. What can I possibly offer you?"

She sat down beside him and lifted his chin with her hand until he looked into her eyes. After a moment she reached into his bag. She pulled out the first apple. "Humility," she said, placing it in his hand. She pulled out the second apple. "Courage," she placed it in his other hand. She pulled out the third apple. "Faithfulness," she said, pulling their hands together so that between the two of them they held all three. She held her gaze on their intertwined hands for a moment then lifted her head to meet his eyes again. A blush rose in her cheeks and she took a deep breath before continuing.

"I don't want to wait for a Prince I've never met to succeed," she whispered, "when I already love you."

* * *

_Author's note: Whew! The first argument leading right into the first confession of love. Not my original intent and hard to write! I didn't originally want to include an argument at all but the more I thought about how to portray faithfulness, the more I felt it had to be done. Everybody argues - real love works it out. Let me know if I pulled it off or if you have advice on making it more convincing. One more (short) chapter to come! Will probably put it up in just a few days._


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's note: Thank you to all who have followed and reviewed as I've gone along. And a final thanks to Captain who gave the prompt that started it all. This has been such a pleasure to write!_

_I literally had no idea how to end this. I mean, I knew the outcome, but finishing words are so important and so hard to perfect. I'm still not sure how I feel about the ones I chose. Please review and let me know what you think!_

* * *

The warm weather seemed to do his father good. He was up by the time Aldhred came in from morning chores, with a healthy flush in his cheeks. Aldhred helped him into the wagon and drove him to the castle. He explained as they went but his father just smiled knowingly. Aldhred pulled into the stables, leaving his father in pleasant conversation with Damian, who also smiled approvingly and without surprise, while he went to see the King.

It was harder than he expected to get a royal audience. He begged several pageboys and guards before one had pity on him. When he entered the throne room, he was surprised at how many people were inside. The King was seated on his throne, and many finely dressed nobles were milling about near him, engaged in conversation. Though the King saw him right away, eyebrows rising in warm curiosity, the guard who announced him had to demand silence three times before the room quieted.

Aldhred knelt before the King and waited to be acknowledged. "Aldhred," the King said. Aldhred smiled, pleased that the King still remembered his name. "Why have you come?" Aldhred drew strength and courage from the kindness in the King's deep voice.

"With your permission, Your Highness, I wish to climb the hill, to save the Princess." Aldhred heard several scoffs around the room. He looked up at the King who was regarding him intently, his face unreadable.

"What makes you think _you_ can climb it?" someone said.

Aldhred didn't bother looking for the voice but held his gaze on the King's. "Because I already have." He pulled the apples out of his pack. They caught the light of the windows; the crystal sparkled yellow in the sunlight.

The King was on his feet at once. More gasps were heard around the room, fading into stunned silence.

"Where did you get these?" the King asked in a trembling voice, picking one up and holding it in the light.

"She gave them to me." Aldhred nearly whispered back. He leaned in close to the King. "The hill _is_ climbable, Your Majesty. Let me bring her home to you."

The King put his hand on Aldhred's shoulder. In his eyes Aldhred saw hope. With a brief nod, the King led him out toward the stables, a growing crowd following behind them.

Aldhred was surprised to find Damian had both Ebony and the King's horse saddled and ready to ride. The King rode out of the castle gates side by side with Aldhred. Damian drove the wagon with Aldhred's father close behind them. Servants poured out of the castle, talking excitedly amongst themselves. The visiting royalty came, too, in the very back where they grumbled and gave each other doubtful glances. Aldhred tried not to notice it all, tried to pretend it was the same as every other time he climbed the hill in the dark.

When he reached the hill and dismounted, everyone made exclamations of surprise that he wasn't using the horse and he had to fight to be heard by the King. "I have to climb to her as me, the way I always have." The King only nodded.

When Aldhred turned to face the hill, the whole crowd went silent, breathless with anticipation. Aldhred closed his eyes and gingerly reached his hand out, just as he had that first night. When his hand reached the glassy surface he let it rest there, feeling how cool the glass was despite the heat of the sun. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and climbed.

It was slow going. His palms were sweating with nervousness, causing him to slip twice. He blocked out the sounds of the crowd and focused on continuing on, inching carefully to the top. When he reached the spot where the hill leveled off there was no wall of wind to push through. The flowers, the tree, Ingrid, all were still glass, nearly blinding in their brilliance as they reflected the afternoon sun. He walked through the crystal flowers to where she stood near the tree, listening to the chiming of the last glassy blossoms of fall brushing against each other.

When he came to Ingrid he stopped in front of her. Her hands were clasped behind her back. Her lips were frozen in half a smile and her eyes were closed. Her face tilted slightly toward the sky in patient expectation.

Aldhred's heart thudded in his chest and he remembered her words that had made it skip a beat. _I already love you_. He leaned in and closed his eyes, pressing his lips gently against hers. A blast of wind blew out from her, pulling at his hair and whipping at his clothes. He held himself in place against it. As the wind settled, Ingrid's lips turned soft and warm and her arms looped around his shoulders. Smiling against the skin of her face, Aldhred grabbed her around her waist, picked her up, and spun her around. Her purple skirts twirled around her in the beautiful motion of ordinary fabric. Ingrid threw her head back and laughed.

Ebony pranced to them, forgotten by those below and apparently the only one who didn't feel they needed a moment to themselves. Ingrid rubbed Ebony's black head and hugged her neck. Aldhred helped her mount and then hopped up beside her. They rode together down the green and grassy hillside. When they reached the bottom, all their countrymen cheered. Ingrid dismounted and ran to her father, who dismounted as well and hugged her fiercely. Aldhred gave his own father a hug before the King ushered him back beside him.

The King smiled with a deeper joy than Aldhred had before seen. He held Aldhred's hand up and spoke to the crowd. "Since I have known Aldhred, he has served me above and beyond his duty. And now he has rescued my daughter with courage and love. I could ask for no finer son." Aldhred blushed deeply as the King dropped his hand.

The King swept his hand from Aldhred to his daughter. Aldhred stared for a moment, thinking how dazzling Ingrid's smile was in the light of the sun. Then Ingrid launched her arms around his neck and kissed him again for everyone to see. The crowds cheered, two fathers laughed, and the stablemaster smiled.

It would be years later, with grandchildren surrounding them, when a traveling craftsman would bring to court a crystal figure scene: a small hill of glass, with a girl on top sitting beneath a tree, and a boy climbing to sit beside her. "I once heard a story," he would say. And while their loved ones would settle in to listen to a fairy tale, King Aldhred the True and Queen Ingrid the Beautiful would look into each other's knowing eyes and see again a youthful blush, a trusting smile, and a love to last a lifetime.

* * *

_The End_


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